


The Scales of Justice

by Maggiemaye



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Buddy Cops, Ethical Dilemmas, Gen, Questionable police work probably, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:36:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strange things happen when the stars align</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scales of Justice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ginnystar (ginny_star)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginny_star/gifts).



> So based on the wording of your prompt, I figured you would probably want something snarky, shippy, and with lots of witty banter. This story is...not like that at all. I really hope you like it anyway, though! It was a fun project and a big stretch for me creatively, so thank you for that, dear :)
> 
> This was inspired by the little bit of Sylvester backstory we got in season 1

“It’s not that this hacker’s taking massive amounts of money,” Chief Gallo explained to the group after another swig of coffee. “It’s that they slice through bank security like butter. The money disappears and it’s nearly impossible to track where it’s been wired to.” He pointed to the cork board behind him. Where he might normally place a picture of their person of interest, there was only a piece of paper that read ‘El Guapo.’

“El Guapo? Don’t you think that’s a _little_ dramatic, sir?”

Chief Gallo took a moment to shoot Megan an unamused look. Megan just exchanged a silent grin with Tim before the briefing continued. She’d been in on a million of these meetings when she’d worked a beat, and she usually had an airtight filter on her mouth at work. But she’d just been promoted to detective last week, and maybe the excitement was getting to her. Just a little bit.

“You laugh now, O’Brien,” Gallo said, “but I’m putting you and Armstrong on this case. We’ll see if you’re still laughing in a couple weeks. This is a hacker unlike any we’ve ever seen before.”

Megan tried and failed to hide her smile. She wasn’t an O’Brien for nothing; hacking wasn’t exactly her strong suit, but she’d picked up enough knowledge from her little brother to be well-versed. If there was a perfect first case for her as a detective, Megan was pretty sure this was it.

A week later, though, she wasn’t laughing.

“Regretting your outburst?” Tim asked from the desk across from hers, a tiny knowing smirk on his face. They hadn’t known each other long, but they shared a particular skill for mind reading. It was the reason Chief Gallo had assigned them as partners. Normally Megan got a kick out of the fact that they were so in sync, but today it was just annoying.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t tase you, Armstrong.”

They’d been desk jockeying for days, tracking suspicious activity and taking calls from banks around the area.

“This is a tough case for your first one,” he said lightly, even-keeled as ever. “Usually even the really good hackers leave traces behind. This one’s got skills.”

Megan groaned. “Of course the first one is the worst.”

Tim just chuckled. “Always. We’ll get them, though. No matter how smart this person is, they’ll slip up eventually.”

Megan snorted, thinking of her brother and what he might say to that. Not quite ready to get back to work, she balled up sheets from her legal pad and tossed them at Tim’s head. He met the onslaught with nothing more than a raised eyebrow over his computer monitor.

“You’re no fun.”

“You haven’t seen me on the weekends,” Tim fired back. Megan enjoyed a brief minute of imagining what Tim might do on weekends (karaoke? Dirt biking?) before reluctantly turning back to her computer, where a trail of dead ends awaited her.

 “Who are you, El Guapo?” she muttered, diving back into the rabbit hole.

* * *

 

Another two weeks went by before they finally got a lead. El Guapo had gotten a little careless, it seemed; just careless enough for Megan to be able to ping an IP address. From there, they’d gotten a lead on a motel near the casino.

“What did I tell you, O’Brien,” Tim said around a mouthful of potato chips. “Even the smart ones slip up.”

“Let’s hope so.” She pulled their car up to the motel and they moved carefully to the room they were looking for. Megan led the way, banging on the door and announcing their presence. When there was no answer, she locked eyes with Tim.

“Got your back, O’Brien,” he murmured. She kept a hand on her holster, her heart pumping adrenaline through her veins as she unlocked the door.

She didn’t know what she’d expected. But it certainly wasn’t a spotless room and a petrified-looking boy sitting exactly in the middle of the bed. He glanced at Megan and his eyes got even wider, a sudden blush coloring his cheeks. Megan watched, coiled tight and frozen, as he gripped the bedspread.

“Are—are you going to arrest me now?”   

 

* * *

 

“Sylvester, where are your parents?”

This question only seemed to make him more panicky.

“Are you going to call them?” he asked in a small, tight voice. “Please, don’t call them. They already don’t want me around.”

“Why not?”

“Because of…how I am. A…a genius. They don’t…they don’t like that.”

Megan felt a squeeze on her heart as Walter came to mind. She’d spent her childhood as the go-between for him and their parents, who meant well but had rarely been able to communicate that. She wondered for a moment if Sylvester had any brothers or sisters to protect him. Most likely not, since he was sitting in a sketchy motel room all by himself.  

“Well, do you have a guardian?” asked Tim. “Anyone taking care of you?”

“Um. Sort of.” Sylvester shook his head suddenly, as if bringing himself out of a dream. “But I really shouldn’t say anything else without a lawyer present. Yeah. That’s how this works, isn’t it? And shouldn’t you have read me my rights already? Not that I don’t already know them, of course, but—“

“You aren’t being arrested, Sylvester,” Megan reassured him. Her voice sounded much gentler than she’d intended, and Tim glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “We just want to ask you some questions at the station.”

Sylvester was wringing his hands together in his lap, locked in indecision. Tim could wait him out as long as it took, but Megan was antsy. Eventually she got up and began exploring the room again, partly to have something to do and partly to get some space from their person of interest.

Normally, Megan excelled at playing bad cop; she fell into the role naturally while her partner became the voice of reason. It was fun to get the best of people who thought they were above the rules. So she didn’t understand what was happening now, her impulse to make Sylvester feel safe and reassured. She saw him sneak a shy glance at her every now and then.

“Libra,” he blurted out, turning red when she looked at him sharply.

“What?”   

“Um, your…your neck.” Sylvester lifted a hand to the back of his own neck, gesturing. “You have a tattoo of the constellation Libra.”

“I’m aware.” Megan wanted to take her hair down, but it was pointless now and she figured it would be even more distracting. “What about it?”

“Just—“ He was bright red, twisting at the bottom of his sweater. “I…know a lot about space. I just noticed.”

“Yeah.” Megan rubbed at her neck. She’d had the tattoo since she was twenty-one, had been stargazing for a lot longer than that. It had been one of Walter’s favorite things to do together when they were kids in rural Ireland, and she’d carried a love of space and the heavens with her across the ocean. When she and her college roommates had decided to get tattoos, Libra had just seemed right. Given her current profession, it made sense.

After a beat, Tim broke the silence.

“Sylvester. This will be a lot easier for you if you cooperate with us now.”

Sylvester took a deep breath to compose himself. Megan and Tim watched as he placed his hands at his sides and nodded up at them.

“Okay. But…I don’t have a ride.”

* * *

 

“He’s _sixteen?”_ Chief Gallo repeated. “El Guapo is a sixteen year old kid in a sweater vest?”

“Yeah, I’d like to stop calling him El Guapo now.” Megan was still reeling a bit. They’d done a sweep of the laptop they’d found in the hotel room, and found it completely clean. Sylvester had given the most minimal answers possible while still being cooperative, and then sat quietly until a friend (wearing a fedora and a smug expression only a genius could pull off) had come to take him home. The sight of Sylvester, clearly frightened and shrinking in on himself as if afraid the air might touch him, still haunted her.

“It might not even be him,” Megan offered, working hard to keep her face expressionless. “He might have gotten mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Or he might have an accomplice.” The chief was adamant. “Keep looking. Stay on this kid.”

Megan nodded, barely hearing him. On their way out of Gallo’s office, Tim pulled her aside.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

“Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Megan smiled. “It’s just…I’ve always hated this part.”

“When it’s not hardened criminals and clear-cut bad guys.” Tim didn’t sound like he was making fun of her or being judgmental of her, like some officers might. Rather, he sounded like he knew exactly where she was coming from.

“Well, yeah. And I know it has to be done. But…he just looked so scared.”

“That’s the thing about this job. It doesn’t always feel good.”

“Thanks, Tim, I hadn’t noticed.” She smirked at him; luckily, Tim was the kind of guy who appreciated sarcasm.

“Maybe I’m still not really cut out for it.”

“No, you are,” he said kindly. “The fact that you’re reacting like this tells me you’re going to be a great detective. The kind we need on the force.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

They sat back down at their desks. Megan checked her email and tried to think about other cases, but it was no use. When Tim spoke up again, she was relieved.

“You don’t really think he’s just a bystander, do you?”

Megan just looked at him; she knew Tim could see the answer on her face. She knew his own answer would be the same.

“He got away by the skin of his teeth this time,” he mused. “When we find him again…”

Megan swallowed. “Right. I know.”  

* * *

 

 

The next several days passed without any new El Guapo leads. Megan couldn’t get rid of the knot in her stomach. She wondered if all new detectives felt this way about their first cases, or if this one was different somehow.

She twisted her new ring around her thumb a few times. It was a silly thing, just costume jewelry, a thin silver-colored band with a little star on it. Megan had paid a dollar for it and worn it every day since. It was something to make her smile, a rare occurrence these days.

“El Guapo strikes again,” said Tim, peeking over his computer monitor at her. He waved a piece of paper with an address, and Megan was out of her chair in a second.

It was another dingy hotel, much like the last one but on the other side of town.

“There’s an underground gambling den across the street there,” Tim said as they pulled up. “Like the last place. Could be something to look into.”

They opened the door to a silent room, as meticulously clean as the last time. After exchanging a wary glance, Megan and Tim started to tear through the place, flinging open the bathroom door and looking in the closets, but they both knew it was pointless. No one was there. Their trail had gone cold again.

The first thing Megan felt was relief.

* * *

 

By their second month on the case, Megan was more exhausted than she would have thought possible.

And her ring was gone, which sucked. She didn’t remember seeing it since their last mad dash to catch El Guapo. She was more disappointed than she was able to admit to Walter when he noticed. If he’d known she was upset, he would just suggest she buy another one; it wasn’t like the ring was one of a kind jewelry, after all. Megan was afraid she might burst into tears if she heard that come out of his mouth, so she pretended losing the ring was no big deal. There was only so much she was capable of explaining to Walter.

El Guapo continued to drain her of her time and energy. She tried to remind herself that this boy and his accomplice were committing crimes, that taking money from banks was illegal for a reason. But the thought would be chased every time by wondering if he was cold, if he was hungry, how he was doing.

Eventually they got an eyewitness tip on him from another motel in the city. Megan and Tim drove there in silence. Any excitement about this case had been leached from them.

Tim sighed and clenched his jaw when they opened the door to another immaculate empty room; it was the only outward sign of how frustrated he was becoming. Megan could relate.

“Where are you?” she growled through her teeth. The suspense was crushing her. She searched the room while Tim stood at the door, watching the hall.

Next to the bathroom sink, there was only one tiny object that didn’t belong. Megan gasped and reached out with shaky fingers to pick up her little ring. It wasn’t real silver by any means, but it looked shinier than before, almost as if it had been cleaned and polished.

Megan slipped it back onto her thumb.

“Find anything?”

She hesitated for just a split second before making her decision. She shrugged up at Tim and gave him the answer he expected.

“Nope. Nothing.”

 

* * *

 

 “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said to Tim one day, poking her head up over the computer monitor. “I’ve never had a case that got under my skin like this.”

Tim paused his typing, looking attentively at her as if this wasn’t the fiftieth time they’d had this conversation. He had the patience of a saint. Megan really didn’t know how he was still single.

“It’s like…I want to lock El Guapo down because I’m _fascinated_. And God knows I want this case off my desk forever. But…the thought of that kid in jail bothers me. It _hurts_ me. It shouldn’t be this personal, right?”

“He’d probably get a plea deal, if it’s him,” Tim said, reasonable as ever. “Maybe he could use his skills for the LAPD or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Megan wasn’t convinced. Tim squinted at her.

“Meg, do you…need some time? Maybe you should take some vacation days or something. There’s no shame in it.”

Megan could count the number of times Tim had called her “Meg” on one hand. She must have looked even more torn up than she felt.

“I know. But I’m good, really. Just…doing some thinking.”

Tim paused. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not."

* * *

 

Walter’s garage space was quiet except for Happy’s hammering. Megan had grown so used to it that the sound barely even registered with her anymore. She exchanged a smile with Happy and glanced around warily for Mark.

“He’s not here,” Happy called, pausing in her hammering. “Don’t worry.”

Megan breathed a sigh of relief and sauntered toward her brother’s desk. He hadn’t bothered to look up at her approach, too engrossed in whatever he was working on to stop immediately. Megan was used to this.

“Hey, little bro.” Megan leaned back against his desk, shifting his paper clips. “I need a favor.”

Walter glanced up at her, his silent signal to continue. Megan rolled her eyes but kept talking.

“I need you to help me track someone. Off the grid. I know you’ve been looking for another hacker.”

“Not just a hacker, Megan. A genius hacker, someone that could improve on even my abilities.”

“Exactly. I think I know a person who could help you. He’s um, he’s my case.”

Walter sat up, suddenly giving Megan his undivided attention.

“Are you asking me to track down a suspect that _you_ are supposed to be tracking down?”

Megan sighed. “If I find him, I have to bring him in. We have enough to arrest him at this point. But if _you_ find him first, he could help you.”

Walter looked skeptical.

“You could use him, Walt,” Megan pressed. “And you’d probably like him. I don’t know, I think he’s really special.”

As he mulled it over, Megan could see curiosity winning out on his face. She grinned at him; reluctantly, he half-smiled back at her.

“Fine. Tell me what you know.”

* * *

 

Even in the low light of the planetarium, Sylvester’s size still set him apart from the crowd of mostly grade-school kids. Megan smiled up at the ceiling as she made her way toward him; she didn’t have to fake enthusiasm for the exhibit. The constellations were bright and unobstructed, much clearer than she could hope to see anywhere else in the city.

Sylvester jumped about a foot when she crept up beside him.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Megan said softly, with a wry grin. Sylvester did not look reassured.

“I’m not on duty, Sylvester. Try to relax,” she whispered, gesturing to her street clothes. “Just try to watch the stars while I talk if it helps.”

He nodded, still wringing his hands.

“Thanks for my ring, by the way.” She held her hand up for him to see the little star.

“I, um…I thought you might miss it,” he whispered, keeping his gaze trained upward.

“I did. Listen, Sylvester, I have an opportunity for you.”

“Like a plea deal?” He looked down at her, startled.

Megan shook her head. “Not that kind of opportunity. One that’s got nothing to do with the legal system at all. As long as you don’t break any more laws, that is.” She held out the slip of paper with Walter’s number on it. “This is my brother’s company. He only hires the smartest, most talented people he can find, and I think you’d be the perfect fit.”

“But…but you’re the police.”

“Believe me, I know.” She winced. “And my badge is on the line here, so if you take me up on this offer, you have to stay on the straight and narrow from now on. If you get caught, I get caught.”

Sylvester seemed to steel himself as he thought about this.   

“I’ll only come if my friend gets to come too,” he said firmly. “We’re a team. He…he takes care of me, he helps us keep a low profile—“

Sylvester cut himself off, clearly afraid he’d said too much. He was still suspicious; Megan couldn’t say she blamed him. Above them, the constellations shifted.

“He’s smart, too,” Sylvester went on after a while. “He’s a psychiatrist. But he’s got some problems and, well, he can be loud. And annoying.”

Megan grinned, picturing Walter and Happy adjusting to these two.

“I’m sure my brother would consider it.”

The presentation drew to a close, and they both paused to watch the show above them. Megan let vague thoughts float through her mind of coming to the planetarium more often. As the constellation map moved again, Libra came into faint focus. The scales of justice. And, according to the ancient Greeks, the claw of Scorpius. She doubted Sylvester would be intrigued by the symbolism—Walter certainly hadn’t been—but Megan wanted to laugh at the aptness of it in this moment.

She glanced up to see Sylvester with his gaze on Libra before looking down to meet her eyes.

“Why are you helping me?”

The million-dollar question. Megan had been asking herself the same thing for several days.

“I joined the force so I could do the right thing for people. And I still don’t know if this is it, but it’s the decision I made and I’m not going back. I think this could be best for everyone.”

He nodded. Even in the low light, Megan could see him furrow his brow.

“After this will…will I see you again?”

“You’d be working for my brother. I bug him a lot. And I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.”

The lights came on just in time for Megan to clearly see his relieved smile. It lit up his face so completely that she had to smile back.

“So.” Sylvester swallowed. He still rocked back on his heels some, but he looked a bit calmer. “What is the company called?”

Megan grinned, suddenly confident she was making the right call.

“Scorpion.”


End file.
